


Body Heat

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, First Time, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top John, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in a car without any heat, John and Sherlock find themselves in a compromising situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to tallenough for the prompt of "John and Sherlock stuck in cold car."

“Well this is bloody brilliant,” grumbled John, turning the key again to no avail.

“When the temperature drops to a certain point…” Sherlock started.

“Shut up,” grunted John. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself. Outside the snow was blowing hard enough to make it nearly impossible to see. A gust of frozen wind rocked the car. Of _course_ they were in the middle of nowhere for a case, of _course_ they were stuck in a blizzard, and of _course_ the car had decided to die on them.

John blew on his hands as the air grew colder. He was wearing a jumper, but not a heavy coat and already he was starting to shiver. “Still no signal?” he asked Sherlock, peering at his phone.

“No.”

“Fantastic.” John cast his eyes heavenward and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sherlock turned around in his seat and started rooting around in the back seat. They’d borrowed this car from the local mayor and the back seat was filled with odds and ends. Really the whole car was a heap of junk, which was probably why he didn’t mind loaning it out. After a few minutes Sherlock came up with a stained blanket that smelled a bit too much like grass and horses in the small space.

“I think I would rather freeze,” grumbled John.

Sherlock settled back in the passenger seat, then suddenly reached over and hooked a long arm around John, dragging him into his lap. “What the hell are you doing?” John hissed.

“Conservation of body heat, John,” he said evenly, settling the blanket over them both.

John blushed, but stopped shivering for the moment. “That’s all I need. To be found sitting in Sherlock’s Holmes’ lap when the rescue party comes.”

“Would you rather it was the other way around?” Sherlock’s breath was hot against his ear, making blood rush south in a hurry. The man always got to him, under his skin in ways John didn’t like to think too hard about. After all, he was his flatmate and his friend, but as far as he knew Sherlock had no interest in more…carnal matters.

“I’m not gay,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, you’ve stated so repeatedly.”

Sherlock shifted and John had a sudden realization. “You’ve got an erection,” he said softly, closing his eyes.

“So do you,” said Sherlock softly, rocking up against him and placing a hand on John’s stomach.

John shivered, but not from the cold. This was impossible. Perhaps a hallucination brought on by hypothermia. But he could feel the warmth of Sherlock behind and underneath him. John shifted his hips purposely and a quick gasp behind him told him everything he needed to know. Taking a deep breath, John felt the cold air burning sharp in his lungs. John picked up Sherlock’s elegant hand and placed it on the bulge in his jeans, silently praying he wasn’t making a mistake.  

“You continue to impress, Doctor Watson,” Sherlock murmured in his ear as he started mapping out the length and girth with his delicate fingers.

John smiled a little and rocked against Sherlock again, making the man moan deep and low.

The roar of an engine cut through the spell between John and Sherlock. John started and scrambled back into the driver’s seat before the mayor knocked on the window. “Thought you might get stuck,” he yelled over the wind. “I’ve got you a ride, come on.”

A few minutes later they were squeezed together in the cab of a truck. John was all too aware of the nearness of Sherlock while the mayor chattered on about the weather. Sherlock’s hand lightly stroked his thigh, letting John know he was still interested. John stared out at the snow, trying to figure out what should happen next between them, a little scared, a little excited and the adrenaline still pumping in his system from nearly getting caught.

The mayor finally pulled up in front of the hotel, and John gratefully climbed out, heading for the lobby without looking back while Sherlock explained to the mayor that the ice fisherman had, in fact, been killed by accident.

John let himself into their room. Of course Mycroft had booked them one room, but at least it had two beds. He turned the heat up a bit and hung up his coat. He was in the middle of pulling off his jumper when Sherlock came into the room. John stopped and looked at him, jumper still on his arms. Sherlock pulled off his scarf and coat while John just stared, uncertain. _Well, this is awkward_ , he told himself before pulling the jumper free and turning to toss it on the back of a chair.

“John.” Sherlock was right behind him.

Straightening, John turned back and looked Sherlock in the eyes, tongue darting out to lick his lips. They stayed like that for a long moment, until John started to hear his heart beating in his ears. He made the first move, grabbing the back of Sherlock’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Sherlock’s arms pinwheeled a moment before settling on John’s shoulders. John pushed his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock moaned, letting him in. Turning them, John steered them towards them to nearest the bed, not even breaking the kiss as Sherlock toppled onto his back.

Finally John broke the kiss, leaving the other man panting as he attacked the buttons on Sherlock’s shirt. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he asked, exposing Sherlock’s pale chest.

“Yes,” said Sherlock with absolute certainty.

John shook his head and tugged Sherlock farther up the bed, straddling his hips as he took another deep kiss and tangled his hands in that nest of curls. Part of him wondered why he’d waited so long, especially as he had Sherlock moaning and writhing underneath him, desperate, hot and so very human in his need.

“What do you want?” asked John as he pulled away and studied Sherlock’s face.

“Even your powers of deduction aren’t that poor,” said Sherlock, reaching for John’s belt.

John leaned forward and grabbed a handful of hair, tugging his head to the side to reach that beautiful throat, nibbling and sucking on it until Sherlock’s hands grabbed at his shirt and he was rocking up against him with desperate moans.

Pulling off, John could see how dark Sherlock’s eyes were with lust. He licked his lips again. “Do we have any lube?” he asked. There was a condom in his wallet from long habit.

“My bag,” said Sherlock.

John didn’t question why, just got up and collected the condom before digging in the bag, coming up with the bottle and turning to find Sherlock had stripped naked while John was distracted. Licking his lips again, John set down the items and started undressing himself, admiring Sherlock’s pale figure inclined on the bed. As his pants hit the floor, Sherlock stared at his hard cock with hunger. John smiled a bit; he knew he was larger than most, and it seemed he really had finally found a way to impress Sherlock.

Grabbing the supplies, John crawled to Sherlock, watching his eyes. As soon as John was in range, Sherlock pounced, pushing John onto his back and swallowing his cock in one fluid movement. John shouted and pushed at Sherlock’s shoulders. “Sherlock!”

Pulling off with an audible pop, Sherlock gave John the dirtiest look he’d ever seen in his life. For a moment he was shocked that Sherlock was even capable of such a look. His heart skipped as his cock throbbed with need.

With a growl, John pushed Sherlock over, pinning his hands and licking the hickey he’d left earlier as he ground his erection against Sherlock. Fumbling with the lube, John got it open and coated his fingers, dropping a hand to stroke Sherlock’s entrance before carefully pressing a finger inside.

Sherlock’s head rocked back and he groaned as leaned back to concentrate on stroking with his fingers. After a minute or two he added a second finger. Sherlock’s head rocked back and he spread his legs wider before his eyes suddenly snapped open and he looked down at John. “You’re done this before.”

John kept his eyes on his fingers. “Yes.”

“But…?”

A smile twitched across John’s lips. “Something you didn’t know, eh?” He added a third finger, making Sherlock groan and grab at the pillow.

At last Sherlock was ready for him. John slipped on the condom and pulled up Sherlock’s hips, watching the man’s face as he started pushing inside, well aware of his girth.

“John,” Sherlock moaned, eyes screwed tightly shut.

“You’re so tight,” said John softly. He froze, barely inside. “You, you haven’t done this, have you?”

Sherlock slowly opened his eyes and looked up at John. He bit his lip and shook his head.

John pulled out and leaned forward to kiss him tenderly. “Try and relax, it’ll help.”

Watching Sherlock carefully, John worked his way inside, trying to be sure he wasn’t hurting Sherlock, stopping to give him time to adjust. When John was fully seated he stopped, gently stroking Sherlock’s chest. “I’m here, just breathe.”

Wrapping his hand around Sherlock’s cock, John started to move, stroking Sherlock with a matching rhythm. In no time at all, Sherlock was coming undone, groaning and writhing underneath John’s steady thrusts.

“John,” he whimpered.

“I’m here,” John repeated, soothing even as he wanted to lose control. He bit his lip and concentrated on bringing Sherlock over the edge. “It’s okay.”

Sherlock came with a strangled cry, as if trying to keep it in. John groaned as he felt Sherlock clamp tight around him. He dropped his hands to either side of Sherlock’s chest and gave a few more hard strokes before following Sherlock over the edge with a groan. He collapsed against Sherlock’s chest, carefully pulling out with a gasp.

Mumbling, Sherlock rolled over onto his side and curled into a ball. John leaned up and kissed his cheek, quickly dropping the condom in the bin and grabbing a washcloth to clean them up a bit. Sherlock tugged his arm. Smiling, John tossed the washcloth on the other bed, grabbed the blanket to pull over then, and curled up behind Sherlock, holding him gently. Whatever happened in the morning would happen.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
